mother's day: 4 takes

illustrations provided by penmarq studios

moms by ali blue moms are nice not once or twice but day after day in every way they are old and wise and bake cookies and pies and look you in the eyes without surprise because they have seen it all and like you to call and give them a smile once in a while and send them a card is that so hard? and call a little more often before they occupy a coffin moms are nice not once or twice but day after day in every way

cookies and brownies by jerri brown my mom was nice. i liked her a lot. most people didn't, though. she was kind of boring. and had kind of a silly laugh, and suddenly laughed at strange moments, which disconcerted people. when she was younger she was proud of having raised five children, and of being a good cook and baker, especially of cookies and brownies. as she got older she started to feel that people laughed at her for these very accomplishments. i told her not to worry about it, because times changed, and what could you do? when i tried to ask her if any particular people had said anything to her or made fun of her, i could never get a straight answer. she would change the subject. she started watching television a lot, especially reality shows. despite my hints and urgings, she stopped baking, even brownies, which was too bad, because they were really good. and it wasn't like i even lost any weight, because i just went to a bakery and bought brownies anyway. well, that's about it.

mother's day by hetti green my mom was nice. i liked her. when i was growing up i didn't pay much attention to her. she was the classic mad housewife (on speed) betty friedan generation feminist, and after my sister and i left home she started writing poetry and got very active in various movements, especially the pro-choice movement. one day my sister said something kind of sneering to her about this. this was not long after we moved out, and the three of us were back in the apartment for some reason - mother's day? i didn't have a tape recorder with me, she said something like "what a way to spend your life." and mom said something like "what, don't you believe in a woman's right to her own body?" and geraldine said something like "i just think there's something disgusting about dedicating your whole existence to the slaughter of helpless creatures. even ted bundy or idi amin took a day off once in a while." this probably sounds more dramatic than it was. geraldine was always snippy and liked to argue, nobody took her that seriously. anyway, after that we never saw a whole lot of each other. but people drift apart. they just do. they don't need any reasons. it is just the way it is.

mom by timmy t jones originally posted in all humans are the same on june 17, 2009 my mom was a nice lady i really liked her a lot we went for long rides together when it was cool, and when it was hot one day we went for a drive further than we usually went we came to an old gas station its sign was faded and bent there beside the station was an old fashioned general store i had the strangest feeling that i had never been there before inside was an old cooler filled with sasparilla and coke i put my hand in the freezing water and a voice from the shadows spoke "you got to pay up, mister before you put your hand in there" the proprietor lurched like a grizzly from a quivering rocking chair i had never encountered such behavior in all my pristine days the terrible creature glared at me i could not hold his gaze i bought a bottle of ginger ale for mom and a royal crown cola for myself i thought i saw two yellow eyes high up on a dusty shelf the sun was shining like an oil slick on the roof of battered tin though we traveled the whole state over we never went there again